Happy Birthday
by only-because3
Summary: Brucas 3parter. Based on the song Happy Birthday by Flipsyde. What if Brooke had been pregnant junior year? Would they have kept the baby? What happens 10 years after their desicion? Definatley a unique story
1. Lucas

OKay so, as of rigth now this is a oneshot. I might make it into a 2 parter maybe write Brooke's point of view but as of right now its a oneshot. This idea kept popping into my head everytime I listened to "Happy Birthday" by Flipsyde(GREAT song, i suggest u check it out). So i decided to just write it because I knew the idea wasn't going to go away. The flashback is 3rd person but the bulk of the story is from Lucas' point of view. I'm pretty proud of this and I'd love it if you read and reviewed! So without further ado, the story:

DISCLAIMER- I own nothing

"_What are we going to do?" Brooke asked, tears swelling in her eyes, slowly sitting down on her bed._

_Lucas just stood there next to her dresser, staring at what laid in her hands. How on earth had this happened? Why had it come at such a time like this? He couldn't believe this was happening. How could they be sure that the answer was even correct? False positives happened all the time._

_But that was the second test in her hands with the same answer as the first one had, the one that now laid in the trash can. It couldn't be wrong twice._

_He realized Brooke was staring at him, waiting for him to say something. Despite everything that had happened, he hated to see her look so sad. "I... I..." He wasn't helping at all. He moved over to the bed and sat down next to her. She tensed up, tears still filling her eyes._

_He sighed and took another big breath in. "What do you want to do? I will support you with what ever decision you choose." He believed what he said. He was hoping that she wouldn't choose abortion, it felt so wrong to kill something before it even started. It's not like they could raise a baby though. Brooke was 16, he was only 17. They had their whole lives ahead of them. But to just give there baby up? Always wonder who they are what they've done, who it looks like. They couldn't do that either._

"_I can't do this." she whispered. She knew if she went through with this pregnancy she'd get attached. She wouldn't be able to go through her pregnancy and deliver her baby and not keep it. She couldn't just had he or she off to strangers. It would be **her**_ _baby. She went through the labor to get it into the world. She made it. She should get to raise it. But who was she kidding. She was 16 for craps sake. That's even younger than Karen was when she had Lucas. Lucas was 17. He had college basketball, and it's not like his mother and him could help support a baby. It was the most logical answer. It would be hard, probably on both of them, more so on her, but it would have to be done._

It has been 10 years to the day since _it_ happened. We don't talk about it much. Even when we had gotten back together senior year it was never brought up. Neither Brooke nor I could talk about it, not even now. It had been so hard on her. I remember picking her up that day, she wouldn't look at me. She was shaking despite the fact that I had been blasting the heater and had been beginning to sweat myself.

But, like I said before, we don't talk about it much. We like to pretend that day didn't happen. So, because we don't talk about it, I don't really know how Brooke feels about it.

I am not a religious man, but ever since _that_ day, I've prayed for forgiveness, have muttered 'I'm sorry' repeatedly in my sleep when I dream about it. On boring days, when our hectic life isn't as hectic I often find myself imaging about it. Would it have been a little girl? With Brooke's dimples and big brown eyes, my blonde hair framing her face. Or would it have been a boy with Brooke's dark brown hair, my ice blue eyes standing out. Would it have resembled Brooke more than me? Would it have had my skin tone or Brooke's paler complexion?

Would it have gotten my brains as well as Brooke's beauty? Would it have loved english and when it was older raid my book collection, reading John Steinbeck voluntarily at the age of 16? Would it have run for student body president like Brooke had? Would they have wanted me to teach them basketball? Would they have preferred one of us over the other?

So, every year on this day, I sneak out out of bed once I'm sure Brooke is asleep. Before the birth of Finley, I would always go into the living room of where ever I was _that_ day. I would take out a piece of paper and pick up a pen and write down everything I did that day. And then, I would write down my feelings as to what happened _that_ day. Every letter is dated and I address every letter to 'the baby'. I sign it with the word love despite the fact that we had murdered our baby.

You might not call it murder, and I suppose before _that_ day, I didn't think of it as that either. But, when you walk into a clinic on the corner of a street in the city, you get looks. It's not like they couldn't guess why we were going in there. Brooke had kept her eyes focused on the ground, still shaking, and I had had my hands shoved in my pockets and there is no doubt in my mind that I looked extremely tense. We weren't going in there for a check up and it's not like 'rape' flew into peoples' minds when they see an emotionally wrecked girl and awkward guy go into a clinic. I can name the three words that fly into their heads when they look disapprovingly at the people walking into clinics.

**Pregnant**

**Statistic**

**Abortion**

We, and most of the other teenage couples that went into the clinic, had the pleasure of all 3 of those words. Brooke was pregnant, making both of us a statistic, and she was getting an abortion. Each and every teen that goes into a clinic for an abortion can give you a million excuses as to why they've made that decision. But, at the end of the day, it doesn't matter. At the end of the day, you have to live with the guilt of knowing what you did.

But ever since Finley was born, every year on _that_ day, I sneak out of bed and go into his room. He's 4 now and sleeping in his big boy bed. My fear of becoming Dan hasn't completely faded, and I know it most likely never will. In some ways, I do feel like Dan.

When Brooke had the abortion I couldn't help but feel like him. I was getting rid of my baby the same way he had tried to get rid of me. Brooke and I had told ourselves over and over that it wouldn't work. We were teenagers. Young and struggling but obviously old enough to be parents. I had the perfect family image in my head. Love being a key factor in it. 2 kids, to start off with, a boy and girl and my beautiful wife would be standing next to me. But, when it came down to having the baby, both Brooke and I jumped ship.

Yet here we are 10 years later, a boy finally in our family. My vision of a family is now restored, but still wonder what it would be like if Finley had an older brother or sister. Sometimes I wonder if he is really the baby we would have had 10 years ago. And when Finley smiles (his huge dimpled smile that he got from Brooke) I like to think it's a message from our past baby, trying to tell us that everything is okay and that there should be no reason for the guilt that I feel and for the guilt I'm sure Brooke feels.

I know it's probably not true, but it's nice to think it.

Finley never notices I'm there, although I guess this year would be the first year he would really remember I was there if he does wake up. His blonde hair is askew, what's not matted to his face is sticking out in every direction. I can't imagine my life without him.

It's funny that he was born on _this_ day. Makes it bittersweet. Some years, I'm glad he was born on _this_ day, because then I know Brooke can't focus on what happened _this_ day 10 years ago.

But today, when she was prepping food for Fin's party, I heard her sniffling. She was chopping, and at first they were slow lazy chops, she was obviously to busy crying to chop properly. But then, as her cries seemed to get louder, the chopping got angrier. I walk in and at first she didn't notice me. When she did look up though, I could see her mascara running down her cheeks.

Then she muttered the words I hate to hear come out of her mouth. They were the first words I heard come out of her mouth immediately after _it_ happened.

"I made a mistake."

I walked over to her, embraced her in a hug and she folded herself into me. I let her cry and she didn't try to recompose herself until she heard Finley calling her from the living room. She quickly wiped away her mascara tears before just washing her face in the sink, so that no make up was on her face. She dried her face, and I gave her a quick kiss on the cheek before she went to Finley.

When I leave Finley's room, I go into our living room and get the piece of paper and pen. I can hear Brooke getting up to do her nightly check on Finley. I begin writing, having too much to cover. Today was busy. Brooke comes down stairs and sits next to me. I just continue to write and she leans on my shoulder reading what I'm writing. This happens every year on _this _day, ever since we got married 5 years ago. She always reads the letter and depending on the day went, there is a possibility that she'll start crying. Tonight, she does.

So, for an hour after I've finished the letter, Brooke's tears have dried and she has fallen back asleep. I carry her back upstairs and lay her down in bed. I place my letter in the box with the others and finally allow myself to sleep.


	2. Brooke

OKay, so I decided to continue! This is supposed to be like a flashback, although I suppose it would stand regularly. It's from Brooke's pov. It's a bit more anerg, somewhat. More emotional than lucas's. I will be writing another part similar to Lucas's from Brooke's pov. This is like the flashback that was in Lucas's chapter. Sp yeah, please review! The next part will be up soon! And for everyone who is reading 'The One You Love Will Make You Weep' I promise an update SOON! DISCLAIMER- I own nothing :( 

_We walked into the waiting room. I went to notify the receptionist, she nodded and handed me forms to fill out. I took them from her, thanking her all though I wasn't sure why. I purposely sat a seat away from Lucas, not wanting to be close to him. But, I was shaking so much that I couldn't fill out the forms and I felt helpless and alone and scared. Then, I felt his hand on my shoulder and I looked up at him and he gave me a small sad smile and I broke down._

"_I'll fill these out." he said, taking the papers from me. I brought my legs up to my chest, burying myself into the chair. _

'_I can do this, I can do this, I have to do this.' I thought, trying to convince myself that that was what I believed._

_Lucas returned my papers to the receptionist and then returned to his seat a chair away from me. I knew he's doing it out of courtesy to me, but I wanted him to just hold me and tell me that I didn't have to do this. That there was some solution we hadn't thought of._

_But then his phone rang, and the way he looked at it, I knew it was Peyton who was calling him. That's when I started to hate him again. He cheated on me, he broke my heart, he got me pregnant. I wouldn't be in this situation if it weren't for him. It could've been early hormones or my own rage, but when I looked over at him, I wanted to stab him for doing this to me. He ruined my life and I couldn't see what I ever saw in him._

"_Brooke Davis?" I looked up and saw an elderly nurse smiling and looking around the room. I sighed and stood up, holding onto the chair for support. I could see Lucas start to get up from the corner of my eye. _

_I looked over at him and we both stopped. I shook my head and he was confused by the action. _

"_Go to hell." I mumbled quietly, continuing my shaky stride towards the nurse._

_I went through a routine check up before I was told to change into a gown and wait for a nurse to come and get me. I sat in the room shaking I was so scared._

'_What if I'm making the wrong choice?'_

'_What other choice do you have? You can't go through with this pregnancy!'_

'_Karen made it work. She's doing really well.'_

'_She had already graduated from high school. Your still a junior.'_

"_Brooke?" I was torn out of my internal argument by the nurse standing in the doorway. I looked up to her smile and I couldn't stand it. I was going to go kill my baby. She worked at a place where they killed babies everyday. How could she keep a Susie Homemaker smile on her face? It made me sick. "Follow me." Her voice was so cheery._

Cheery_. Lucas used to call me that. Back when we were good and happy and I didn't think of him as a hurtful cheating bastard. _

_I followed the nurse into another room where I was told to lie down on the table and place my legs into what I could only identify as stirrups. I did as I was told and the nurse told me that the doctor would be in soon. _

_They really want to make sure that you are positive about your decision. I waited 5 minutes in the waiting room. I waited 5 minutes in the other room. I waited for 10 minutes on that table. 20 minutes to think about what you are about to do. To think about your baby. To think about the baby that will no longer exist by 8 pm tonight. The baby that will never see anything. The baby that will never have a birthday._

_The doctor came in and I tensed up. She explained the procedure and then numbed me. Then, I heard the machine start and I couldn't hold back the tears. _

'_It's done. I can't go back now. I can't go back now. It's for the best.' I kept repeating over and over in my head until the words came into my head that I wish hadn't._

'_I'm sorry... I'm so sorry. This was a mistake.'_

"_Your done." the doctor said simply before leaving the room._

_I spent 10 more minutes on that table, crying. I was then told to change back into my clothes and then went through a small check, both physically and mentally, with Nurse Susie Homemaker._

_After that, I walked back into the waiting room to find Lucas sitting in the exact same spot, tapping his foot nervously. He finally looked up when he heard the nurse call another name._

'_Another baby dead.' I thought as my eyes met his. It was too much. His face said everything. He was scared and I knew he was regretting all of this. I slowly walked to him, grabbed my jacket off of the chair next to him and slid it on._

_Without a word, he got up too, and we walked outside to the car. He didn't ask any questions and I didn't offer a word for the first 5 minutes of the drive. The radio was on, some aimless song playing. That was the only thing filling our silence. _

_He pulled up to my house and cut the engine. We sat there for what seemed like hours in silence until I had to say it. I had been thinking about it the whole time and I needed to get it out._

"_I made a mistake."_

_With that I broke down again, sobbing hard into Lucas's chest. He wrapped his arms around me and I didn't pull away. I still hated him, but I need him in that moment. He ran his hand down my head and back repeatedly, whispering words to comfort me._

"_It's okay... I don't blame you... It doesn't blame you... It's okay... I'm sorry..." _


	3. Brooke 2

Hey guys! This is the final Installment of this little 3parter! I hope everyone likes it! In this one I have Brooke describe a scene(or a couple I guess) that was in the promo for 3x19 but never made air which a lot of brucasers were pissed about, so I thought I'd put it in here. So please read and review! You're reviews are awesome and are what keeps me writing! So, withought further ado, the story: DISCLAIMER- I own nothing :(

I am 26 years old, that's what, 10 years after it happened, and I still haven't forgiven myself for doing it. How can I? I killed someone, my own flesh, well I guess not flesh, but my own blood. The doctor said that it was still an embryo, not a fetus, so it wasn't considered a baby. As if that was supposed to make me feel less guilty. But it didn't. Nothing will make me feel less guilty about what I did.

Me and Luke, we don't talk about it. I read the letters he writes though, and I know he feels guilty about it. I love him to death but I always get a little mad when I read that he does. He wasn't the one who was carrying the child, he didn't have to be the one who made the FINAL decision. He wasn't the one who killed our baby.

But, I can't hold it against him. He has his right to feel however he wants. The first year we were married, I asked him why he wrote the letters. That was one of the few times we ever acknowledged it out loud. He said it was a way of letting go, letting it out, a way of moving on. I knew he was going to suggest that I try it too, so before he opened his mouth, I mumbled an 'Oh' and walked out of the room. I don't want to let it go. I don't want to move on. I don't deserve to.

I guess it's gotten easier, as the years have gone by. I'm thankful that Finley was born on that day though. Because then I know that I wont spend the whole day thinking about the baby I killed on that day. But that doesn't mean I can forget about it completely. When we cut the cake, when we open presents or when I'm laying in bed later that night, it comes to mind. That's usually when I excuse myself, and go and lock myself in the bathroom to cry for a little bit. I've decided to just not wear makeup on this day anymore. There's no point. I'm just going to wash it off after I cry anyway.

I woke up this morning feeling sick to my stomach. I always wake up like that one these mornings though. It's how I woke up that morning 10 years ago. I guess it could have been morning sickness, but I doubt it. It was my own guilt, a way of my body screaming 'DON'T DO IT!', but I ignored it. Instead I killed my baby.

After it happened I slipped into a depression. I never let anyone know though. I mean, at first, I didn't have anyone, I didn't have anyone to hide it from. I drank and drank and drank. I'd go to bars in hopes of having meaningless sex, to try and make me forget, but when it came down to it, I couldn't. I couldn't have the sex and I couldn't forget. When I did gather people back into my life, I tried my best to act like the Brooke they knew. But, after a while, putting on the act was getting tiring. So, I went to see a doctor and he prescribed me some happy pills. With the help of those pills, I started benefiting with Felix (gag me) and when that went to hell, Lucas was there. When I moved in with Karen, I was finally in a place where I could come to some sort of term with it. I accepted that I did it and couldn't move on, so I stopped taking the pills.

I stayed happy, for a while, I had Lucas back, and I stopped thinking about it so much. But then, I was late. There I was, almost an exact year later, in the same position, only I was dating Lucas this time. My first thought, 'I can't do it again.'. My second thought 'I've got to tell Lucas'. So, I went to the basketball game, expecting to see Lucas, but he wasn't there. Instead, I got the pleasure of Nathan telling me that Lucas had HCM. So, I drove franticly to the River \court where I found him in the middle of the court clutching a basketball. I asked him if it was true as I pulled him into my arms and he just nodded against my chest. Needless to say, my potential bun in the oven, was pushed to the back of my mind.

Of course, then Lucas left and I found out that I was, for sure, pregnant. I didn't want to call Lucas though. He and his mom were figuring things out, and I figured he'd call me, but of course he didn't. Then, when he did come back, we didn't have time to talk about it before Peyton told me of her feelings for Lucas. I was pissed off, cramping and had a lower back pain that wouldn't go away, and needed to make the final arrangements for the Naley wedding. I was fairly confident in my relationship with Lucas, but then I saw him talking to Peyton when I asked him not to AND I found out about the kiss.

I was so pissed off that I actually forgot about being pregnant. But, then Lucas asked me if I was pregnant, and I lied. I wasn't feeling well at all, I thought I was having morning sickness or some weird pregnancy symptom. So, after I went with Haley to find out that she was preggers as well, I got checked out. Turns out, those cramps were REALLY bad. A lot worse than I thought. They were signs of my miscarriage.

I miscarried. I couldn't handle it. I broke down. I spent 5 hours with Haley, crying and blaming myself for it. I felt like it was some sort of karmic pay back. I killed my baby, so the next one was taken away from me. There I was a week later, in that same clinic with Haley by my side. I went back into _that_ room and laid on the table so they could suck out my already dead baby. I had to talk to Nurse Susie Homemaker about what happened and I had to walk out of that clinic, yet again, empty inside.

I sunk back into my depression which got even worse when I told Lucas to be with Peyton. I was back on the happy pills before I knew it. Then, I met Chase and he brought back my hope. I believed that I would find my true love and that I would have a child. He convinced me that I was good enough without the pills, so I stopped.

Chase eventually moved, but we've kept in contact and he even sent Finley a present when he was born. I never told Lucas about the miscarriage. I know that I should, but I can't, because then I'll have to acknowledge the baby I purposely killed.

When I got pregnant with Finley I was ecstatic. I went to my first doctor's appointment alone, because I knew she would bring up the miscarriage and I couldn't have Lucas find out. So, she said that I should be okay, that most women miscarry at one point, and to just take it easy. But if I felt and cramps or back pain to come in immediately. I was fine and 8 and a half months later Finley was born on _that_ day.

About an hour after Finley was born, Lucas was holding him and I was resting on the bed when he turned to me.

"Do you think about it?" he asked me.

"Every year." I responded, a little piece of me dying inside. I had a baby, finally, but I couldn't help but feel guilty.

I found out I was pregnant yesterday and I'm excited, but it's killing me. The fact that I found out so close to _this_ day. But, I am happy and I know Lucas will be too. He's been bugging me lately about a family. I think he realizes that Finley's getting big and wants a baby back, which I am more than happy to give him. He doesn't know yet, I can't tell him today and I couldn't tell him yesterday, I was too stressed out about today. Hopefully it's a girl, it's what we both want.

I just pray to god she doesn't turn out like me. Pregnant at 16 and then again at 17. We'll love her all the same though. I could never make her choose a decision and I know Lucas would never be able to either. We hope Finley isn't like Lucas and impregnates someone, but with a girl it's different. Obviously a lot more emotional stuff. If she does turn out like me thought, I just pray she has the strength to say what I couldn't.

"I can't kill my baby."

It's 10:30 now and Lucas thinks I'm asleep so he gets out of bed. He's going to write his letter, like he does every year. This is when I cry. I cry because I can't take it back and because the guilt I feel won't go away. I know it will never go away, and I'll probably be 50 years old and still feel guilty about it.

It's about 10:40 now and I decide to go check on Finley. Finley's gotten so big. The perfect mix of me and Luke. I can't believe he's 4 already. He's already started pre school and before I know it he'll be in regular school. I started crying when he went to preschool and that's just for 4 hours. How the hell am I gonna act when he's gone for 6? He's my baby and growing up entirely too fast.

I slowly walk downstairs and I see Lucas sitting on the couch writing away. I curl up next to him and start to read the letter. Gosh, he feels so bad. It's too much to take so I start crying again until I finally fall asleep.


End file.
